One Year
Today is the 4 year anniversary of D-Day.
Today is the 2 year anniversary of my divorce.
Today is the 1 year anniversary of Dear Betrayed Partner.
Today is July 24th…and I am celebrating.
Today is the day I called my momma from a parking lot, holding a cup of coffee I would never drink while whispering the words, I need to get out. As if I spoke too loud, he could hear me. As if I spoke too loud, the world would hear my fear, my shame, my uncertainty. Today is the day I woke up in one story of my married life, and went to bed in a story I didn’t know existed. It is the day a chiseled gray line, etched in both lies and truth, was written on my story as I sat on the cold, hard, kitchen floor to stabilize. Today is the day I thought a batch of homemade chicken noodle soup could settle the words that circled on repeat. Six years…six years. Today is a day I was both validated and vindicated.
Today is the day I forgot to turn on my microphone for Zoom divorce court. It is the day I called my best friend to tell her I did it. I survived. Today is the day I woke up married and went to bed divorced. It is the day I sipped a salted rim margarita in a new blue dress, as I watched my sweet nieces across the dinner table, asking God to always keep them safe. It is the day I received a hand-painted blue butterfly from my sisters, my fellow survivors in betrayal trauma. Today is both the ending and the beginning.
Today is the day I pressed publish on my story. My truth. It is the day my lived experiences found their voice. It is the day I sat with the man who loves, honors, and respects me, listening to a local artist sing “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John, among a Wednesday night restaurant crowd.
“Ballerina, you must’ve seen her
Dancing in the sand
And now she’s in me, always with me”
Today is the day I sat with all parts of me that have walked this day, and thought, just look at us. Look at us, living…
July 24th embodies all of this for me. A single day I passed for more than 30 years of life, and I have the honor of being a different chapter, a different version, a healing testament, on this day.
Today is one year.
Two years.
Four years.
It has been said, time changes everything.
But I think I want to keep her.
I think I want to keep all of her.
